A Past Life's Mistakes
by Elennar9466
Summary: What happens when 'good'Wyatt learns about the monster that he was in the original timeline? R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: - Right, this is set around 23 years after the S6 finale. Chris is like a few days short of being 23, Wyatt is 25 (and good), and they also have a brother Darmuid, who is currently 16, going on to 17. Only Piper, Leo, Wyatt, Chris and Darmuid will be featured here, Paige, Phoebe and their respective families will only be **mentioned **here at most. They no longer live at the Manor.**_

**_A short note on the powers scenario, as they sort of play a pivotal role here- Wyatt has the shield, both kinds of telekinesis, premonition, orbing, healing, sensing and glamouring. _**

**_Chris has telekinesis, temporal statis, elder bolts, orbing, healing, sensing and glamouring._**

_**Darmuid has molecular combustion, telekinesis and an advanced premonition power that allows him to kind of **experience **the visions, instead of just watching them like a movie, think of this as a super charged premonition, I think Phoebe had one of those in S5,in that gypsy episode, I could be mistaken though.**_

**_The reason that Darmuid doesn't have any whitelighter powers is because Leo had already 'fallen from grace' when he'd been conceived, so he's part witch and part mortal, not whitelighter/elder._**

**_Disclaimer- I don't own Charmed, I do own Darmuid, this idea, the words, etc, you get the picture._**

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**_Chapter 1_**

16 year old Darmuid woke up with a start. _Something's wrong! _His mind screamed in panic.

In an instant, he was up, not even bothering to put on pants over the boxers that he was currently dressed in- as a Seer, he had learned to trust his gut instincts- they were never wrong.

Concentrating, he tried to pin down the source of his worry, and within a second he got it- _Chris!_

Quickly, he had crossed the passage that separated his room and his older brother's, and had entered.

He found Chris thrashing around in his bed; his face was contorted with pain and worry. Darmuid frowned. His family-in-trouble-Seer-instincts had never been triggered by a brother's nightmare before.

Nonetheless, he reached over and touched his brother's sweat drenched shoulder as an attempt to wake him up- which was when he felt the slight pull on his navel that signaled his premonition power.

As soon as the premonition started, he knew that it was of the past, there was something else too, but he couldn't quite place it. He looked around at his surroundings- he was at the Manor, the Living Room to be precise.

He heard a crash just behind him, and whirled at the sound. What he saw effectively stopped his heart. His mother was on the floor, bleeding from a gaping wound on her stomach.

On instinct, he reached out to take her hand, only to have it pass right through Piper. That was when his rational self kicked in. _This is a premonition, _he told himself reassuringly, _of the past. Someone must've healed her, 'cause she isn't dead, she's asleep, right here at home. Wyatt and Chris are gonna sense that she's hurt, they'll orb here anytime now, heal her, and everything's gonna be just fine._

He told himself to relax. Easier said than done- watching your mom bleed to death, even if you _did _know that it'd turn out okay, was pretty hard.

Minutes ticked by, minutes that seemed like _eons _to Darmuid. Piper, all this time had been loosing blood in torrents. _Damn it! Why wasn't anyone coming! _The 16 year old Halliwell thought desperately- he had never felt this helpless his entire life.

His eyes wandered to a window right beside them, and he saw the blood red sigil glowing on the sill. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember exactly _what _the sigil did.

It was made by evil, he knew that. A sigil created by white magick would've glowed white or blue, not red.

He gasped out loud as he finally realized the sigil's purpose was- it was a shield- a powerful one at that.

_One which would keep whitelighters from sensing when a loved one was hurt. Or from hearing them if they called them, _Darmuid thought with a sick feeling in his stomach.

Finally, he heard the front door open, and he sighed in relief. _Someone was here, at least!_

Footsteps resounded in Darmuid's ears, as the owner of the footsteps made their way towards them, or towards Piper, anyway.

The 'owner of those footsteps' turned out to be Chris. "_Mom!_", he shouted, throwing himself at his mom's side. Darmuid studied this younger version of his older brother; he couldn't have been more than 14 or so.

_Well, what're you waiting for? _Darmuid thought, his desperation growing as he stole a glance at his mother's now ashen face, and dull eyes, _heal her!_

"M-mom, p-please hold on." He heard the 14 year old Chris tell their mother through his sobs. "I c-can't h-heal, mom, I-I'll call W-Wyatt, or d-dad."

Darmuid was floored. _Since when could Chris not heal?_ The witch, thought. _As far as I remember, he's had that power since he was 2 years old or something. _

The 14 year old Chris was currently shouting his lungs out calling for Wyatt, Paige and their dad.

Darmuid shook his head sadly. With that shield on the house, there was no way that anyone of them would be able to hear him.

Gazing back at his near dead mother, he found himself sobbing now too. The fact that it was just a premonition (one which still made no sense), didn't make this any less painful.

Piper was speaking to Chris now, her voice the lowest of all whispers. "Be good, p-peanut, w-won't you? B-be b-brave for m-me, O.K.?" The oldest Charmed One said, her last reserve of strength was ebbing away.

"M-mom, p-please don't go. Y-you c-can't g-go mom, please." Chris sobbed heart breakingly, holding his hand over Piper's wound in vain, doubtlessly trying to heal.

But nothing happened. No blissful healing light erupted from Chris' hands. "I'm s-sorry, m-mom, I'm s-sorry."

Darmuid's heart broke for his older brother. He could relate to how helpless Chris felt right then. Being part witch and part mortal himself, he'd been in situations when a loved one had been hurt, and he'd been powerless to heal them.

Of course, the situation had never gotten as dire as this.

"Don't be." Piper whispered, using the last dribble of strength she possessed to summon a slight smile to her face. "I'm s-so p-proud of y-you, b-baby. It's m-my time, I l-love y-you s-so much."

And then Piper Halliwell, the Oldest Charmed One died.

Darmuid fought to get out of this hellish premonition, but of course, it was futile. Once a premonition started, it would run its course- regardless of whether or not the Seer getting the premonition wanted to see it through.

Abruptly, the scene changed- the surroundings that Darmuid was currently in melted and metamorphosed into a different place altogether.

It was the attic; Wyatt and Chris were sitting together in the couch, flipping through the Book.

_That's funny, _Darmuid thought, _where am I?_

Studying their faces more closely, he came to the conclusion that it was probably a month or so after mom had…even knowing that it wasn't actually real, he still couldn't bring himself to say the awful word.

As an effort to keep his mind from replaying the horrific scene that he'd just witnessed, he listened to the conversation that his older brothers were having.

Chris was arguing with Wyatt over something, and Darmuid could tell that this was something serious, not normal brotherly bickering.

"Wyatt, you know that we aren't allowed to do something like that." Chris was saying.

"I mean, using magick to clean up a room is one thing, Wy, but to use a spell to win the lottery, that's just _wrong. _You know it is. You can't do something like that!"

Something changed in Wyatt then, his eyes became more bestial somehow, and both Darmuid and Chris instinctively recoiled.

"I'm Twice Blessed! I can do whatever I wanna! And if you won't help me, that's just fine, I don't need you, Christopher."

Darmuid felt like he'd been slapped. The Wyatt _he _knew would never say anything like that. And the way he'd said 'Christopher'… of course, Wyatt called Chris by his full name now and then, mostly in jest, but now, he'd said the word condescendingly, like it was the name of some lowly demon.

Darmuid closed his eyes and shook his head, the better to make sense of this crazy premonition, and when he opened his eyes, he found that the scene had changed again.

Once more, Wyatt and Chris were arguing, but this time they were in the Living Room of the Manor. Wyatt was wearing a full length black leather coat, buttoned up, over black jeans. His hair reached his shoulders, and he had a beard.

Darmuid shuddered. Wyatt looked exactly like a demon or a warlock. Studying his brother's face more closely, he saw that Wyatt's face was a blank mask, emotionless, and _soul less, _Darmuid thought with a shudder.

"This is the thing that I find the most debilitating about you, Christopher." Wyatt was saying, once more in that condescending tone that was not unlike nails on chalkboard for Darmuid.

"Magick isn't good or evil, it just _is. _Power isn't good or evil, it just _is. _And whoever has the most power wins. I'm sorry Christopher, if you're not with me, you're against me." 'Wyatt' (for by now, Darmuid was having serious doubts over whether this person was actually his brother.) said, flicking his hand as he did.

The telekinetic gesture sent Chris flying out the open front doors, and he hit the front porch with a sickening thud.

Wyatt looked at the form of his brother closely, and made a 'come thither' gesture with his right hand, shutting the front doors with a slam.

Darmuid was a 16 year old witch, and he'd been raised as one, and after 16 years of witch hood, he had assumed that he had a pretty good grasp of magick.

This premonition, however, had shattered that complacent theory into a thousand tiny bits. He was seeing some kind of a weird alternate reality thing where mom was _gone_, where he apparently didn't exist, and Wyatt, well, he was acting most un- Wyatt- ishly.

While he was still trying to make sense of it all, his surroundings began to melt one more time. Darmuid sighed. He had a feeling that whatever he was about to see wouldn't be pretty.

When his location assumed a definite picture, he found himself in a dark, damp cave which was lit by torches.

_Underworld!_ He thought, as he recognized the place where he was in. He had been here a couple of times before, with his brothers of course.

The brothers had an unspoken rule about that- you don't go into the Underworld alone, period.

Then he noticed something else- a dark haired man was lying face down at his feet. Fear ripped through him as he recognized the 'man' It was Chris!

Chris groaned. Darmuid noticed right then that his brother was in an extremely bad shape. His shirt was ripped and torn. There were several wounds on his body, including a few that looked like whip weals on his back.

And he was thin. Man, was he thin. Chris always had been lean, he didn't have the athletic physique that Wyatt or Darmuid had- but this Chris wasn't just _thin._

_Emaciated _was the word for his brother right now. _Oh God, Chris, what's happened to you? _Darmuid thought.

**_So, is it any good? Please, review, people! I won't continue this otherwise._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thanks to all those people who've read and reviewed my story. Hope you'll enjoy reading this installment. There's a subtle reference to Harry Potter, see if you can spot it. Tell me in your reviews. As for the disclaimer, kindly refer to the 1st chapter. Some of it is loosely based on the flashbacks from Chris crossed, but I didn't have an actual script to aid me, only my less-than-perfect memory, so please don't mind if a few things don't match the show._**

_**Chapter 2**_

Squatting next to his glaringly injured brother, and yet as helpless as he had been when he'd watched his mother dying, Darmuid tried to take deep, steady breaths- he'd heard that deep breaths helped to calm you down.

Unless of course you're stuck in a _very _realistic nightmare where you're mother just bled to death, and you're older brother is pretty much following in her footsteps. In a situation like that, a few morphine injections would be more effective.

Just as Darmuid was labeling the inventor of the deep-breaths-calm-you-down theory as an inexperienced jack ass, he heard footsteps behind him. Hoping against hope that it wasn't a demon, he whirled around, and saw his oldest brother, a.k.a. Wyatt Mathew Halliwell.

Wonderful, soaring relief flowed through him. Sure, this Wyatt acted, spoke and dressed a little too… demonically (Darmuid hesitated a moment before using that particular adjective for his brother) for his comfort, but it was still _Wyatt, _right?

The brother who was so protective of his younger siblings that it was downright annoying. The brother who risked getting blown up by his mom just to cover for his brothers. The brother who had taught him how to ride a bike. The brother who had taught him how to tap into his powers properly. It was still him, right?

Wrong. For looking at Wyatt's face, Darmuid sensed that something was wrong- very, very, _very _wrong.

Normally, Wyatt would have a cow if any of his family members so much as got a mid level energy ball slammed into their shoulder (which, if you happen to be a Halliwell, by marriage or otherwise, isn't considered to be a very fatal injury.), especially if the 'family member' were a brother.

To see any of his brothers in the state that Chris was now, would predictably give him a full blown heart attack.

_This _Wyatt however didn't seem even the least bit perturbed. If anything, although Darmuid hated himself for even _thinking _something like this, he looked amused even.

Slowly, deliberately, he strode up to the twenty year old Chris (which was the age Darmuid had guessed his brother to be currently in), and asked him, "I will ask you again, Christopher, will you join your brother?"

Chris forced himself into a sitting position, and defiantly, looking uncannily like a male version of Piper Halliwell as he did so, answered, "One thing, _Lord _Wyatt, you are not my brother. He is dead to me now. And finally, the answer is no- I refuse to pervert what _my _mother has passed onto me, I refuse to go against her principles, I _refuse _to use my magick for evil."

Chris appeared calm and composed, and only Darmuid (and possibly this possessed version of his brother) could tell that on the inside Chris was light years away from calm and composed.

'Wyatt' looked slightly pissed off, which, mind you, was an expression capable of sending the bravest of people running in the opposite direction, screaming their lungs out.

"Very well, I see you need a little more persuasion." Wyatt intoned, his voice sending shivers up and down Darmuid's spine.

He waved his hand, healing Chris' wounds immediately, and told him ominously, "The Zanqhàth will be pleased with their _client _tonight."

Despite the tough-as-nails-guy act was putting up, mostly for 'Wyatt's' benefit, Chris paled visibly.

Darmuid had the sudden urge to throw up. 'The Zanqhàth' were the demonic world's version of prostitutes.

And being demonic, they took 'kinky' to a whole new level. To make someone forcibly sleep with them- well, let's just say that the person would be better off dead.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, _Darmuid kept repeating in his head._ Oh God, Wyatt!_ He screamed silently at the black dressed shell of the brother that he knew; _what the fuck is wrong with you! Are you really gonna have demons rape your own brother?_

And suddenly, feeling very sick, he decided that he _really _didn't want to know the answer.

With a fear settling in his mind, he prayed to whatever power that controlled the premonitions of a Seer, that he really, _really _didn't want to see his own brother getting raped, that too on the orders of his older brother.

_Please, please, don't make me watch that, please. I can't, I can't._ He prayed with as much as sincerity as he had within himself, which was a lot.

For, a premonition was something that no Seer, no matter how powerful or advanced could block out. You could have them on command, but only if you were _meant _to See what you commanded.

Similarly, if you were _meant _to See something, no matter how unpleasant or scarring, you'd have to see it. And squeezing your eyes shut and simply refusing to watch wasn't exactly an option- for the simple reason that premonitions just didn't work that way.

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Miraculously, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself inside the Manor, which looked pretty much like a museum. _Thank god I didn't have to see Chris…not going there, not going there, NOT GOING THERE! _Darmuid's thoughts ricocheted around his brains like ping pong balls.

So calming himself as best as he could, which, admittedly, wasn't a very successful attempt, he looked at the future, no past, well, let's just settle for _a _version of the Manor, shall we?

Like he'd noticed before, _this _version of the Manor looked like some kind of museum. It looked pretty much the same, give or take a few oddities here and there. But something that was glaringly _missing _from the house was the feeling of warmth, it was missing _love._

This place wasn't _home._ It was just a house, nothing more. Maybe it was because of the roped pathways that wound their way through probably the entire house.

_Or perhaps,_ Darmuid thought, noticing them for the first time, _it was because of the few dozen demons that roamed the place, like they were guards or something._

That was also when he noticed the little levitating robot things flying around the house, emitting a light beam of sorts.

Hearing people talking, he went to the source of the sound, which was the kitchen.

He was met with the sight of a group of people, gathered around a person, who he presumed was a guide of sorts.

"The Charmed Ones vanquished more than a thousand demons in their time, before they were finally vanquished themselves."

The 'guide' went on and on. He even mentioned something about the 'reconstitution of the Charmed Ones', complete with a hologram of Piper, Phoebe and Paige getting their powers, and Shax hurtling into the Manor.

Several of the people screamed, and the 'guide' chuckled, "Scares 'em every time."

All this however, was lost on Darmuid. His mind was currently in Nowhereville trying to process the fact that not only was mom dead, so were his aunts. And also the fact that magick was apparently exposed, and evil had the Upper Hand.

His conjectured this from the fact that the people on the tour wereobviously non-witches. That much was simple to guess, anyway. If they had been witches, they wouldn't need to be lectured on the history of the Charmed Ones.

_Around a million history books on that subject took care of that pretty well_, Darmuid thought wryly.

History, especially 'History of Magick' was one of Darmuid's sore points. As far as he was concerned, the subject belonged to bins.

But, there were far more pressing matters at hand, like for example, the demons who now roamed freely, and who were arrogant (and powerful) enough to go around strutting around the ancestral house of the Charmed Ones.

Sure they might no longer be there, but what of the rest of the Halliwells? _Are they all dead too? _Darmuid thought, and unbidden, tears came to his eyes.

And as if to disprovethis horrible theory of his, his eyes fell on one of the tour group. His jaw fell open in shock.

"Ch-" he began to shout out his brother's name, and cut himself short, only to realize that it wasn't necessary- in this place he was no more than a phantom. The people here wouldn't see him even if he jumped up and down in front of them butt naked.

So he chose to study his brother. On a superficial level, he looked pretty much the same. He had gained a little more weight since the last time that he'd seen him (Darmuid shuddered involuntarily at the memory), so now he just looked thin, and not emaciated. So that was a _little _progress.

But when Darmuid actually _studied _Chris, he knew that _this _Chris was nothing like _his _Chris. His eyes… they looked so haunted. Like he knew things that he wished that he hadn't. And he looked so burdened. Like the fate of the world depended of him.

And there was pain. Huge, incalculable, unbearable pain. Not the kind that just makes you want to cry, but the kind that makes you feel that even _breathing _is a huge burden.

Not that the Halliwells were alien to pain, far from it. And Chris wasn't an exception. Let's just say that being alien to pain and being a Halliwell are just downright contradictory notions.

But the pain that Darmuid saw in Chris's eyes then, it was beyond anything that he'd ever experienced, and he knew in his heart that no one in his family, albeit they too had had their share of pain, had borne this kind of agony.

And that hurt Darmuid deeply. Although this wasn't the Chris that he knew, it didn't change the fact that he was still his brother. And seeing his brother in so much pain… he'd rather be tortured by every single demon alive.

Focusing back onto what he was seeing (as agonizing as this was, he knew that this premonition was given to him for a purpose. As a witch he didn't believe in coincidences.), he saw that the entire tour group had left the kitchen, save Chris and another woman, whom Darmuid seemed to vaguely recollect.

A demon shimmered in then, probably one of those god-forsaken _guards _(he still had issues with the demons-in-control-of-the-Manor thing), and told the two inmates of the room gruffly, "Hey, you two, what're you doing here?"

The woman had her back to the demon, and her front to Darmuid, so the witch could see what the demon couldn't.

For, as the demon neared, the woman conjured an athame into her hand. "Wait for it…" Darmuid heard her mutter.

At the precise moment, she swung around, plunging the nine inch long piece of steel into the demon and vanquishing him in a flash of flames.

_She's good, _Darmuid thought appreciatively.

"Sometimes I forget who you are, Bianca." Chris told the woman, (whose name was apparently Bianca) in a way that implied that he was happy about what she was, and _wasn't_ happy about it at the same time. _Complicated aren't you? _Darmuid thought of his brother.

"Who I _was_, Chris, before I met you." Bianca corrected him quietly. They made their way to the basement.

Upon reaching their destination, Chris looked at Bianca, and grinned his trade mark melt-all-the-chicks-to-putty grin, and asked her, "So, what do we do now?"

Darmuid groaned. _Some things never change!_

Bianca smirked at Chris, "We wait.", and began to unbutton her top.

"_For cryin' out loud people!" _Darmuid shouted to none in particular, and looked away like a gentleman.

Finally, after what seemed like _hours, _Chris and Bianca made their way to the attic, with Darmuid on their heels, not unlike a disapproving parent.

Once inside the attic, Darmuid immediately noticed that the Book of Shadows was missing from its podium, and instead it'd been replaced by a flickering hologram.

_What the hell! _Darmuid thought, _had evil gotten it too? Nah, that can't happen, _he began to reason with himself, _the Book won't endure any evil._

_But,_ a small smug voice reminded him, _neither can a demon kill a Charmed One so easily, and Chris always had healing powers, and Wyatt isn't supposed to be evil. But in this premonition, all that actually happened._

"Will you be able to summon it from him?" Bianca's question, tinged with anger, was meant for Chris, but it also served the purpose of jarring Darmuid from his thoughts.

He also realized something else. Demons didn't have the Book of Shadows, Wyatt did, but, unfortunately, it didn't seem to be a good thing.

Chris nodded. "But we won't have much time; he'll notice it's gone almost immediately. I don't know if I can do this Bianca." Clearly, Chris was suffering from a distinct lack of confidence.

"Yes, you can. In fact, if anyone can, it's you." She told him soothingly, letting him draw strength from her. He needed it, badly.

"You'll save the future, for you, for _us. _You will, if you wanna marry me."

Darmuid's eyes widened at this revelation. _Bianca was Chris' fiancée?_

Chris smiled at that, and asked, "You sure I'll still have my powers when I get there?"

"Yeah, you will, the spell will take care of that." Bianca answered him. Then, pulling out a piece of chalk, she drew the Triquetra on the attic wall. Darmuid's brow furrowed, as he started thinking. _What were they trying to pull off, exactly?_

"Right," Chris said, pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket, and began to read a spell, "**_I call upon the Ancient Powers_**

_**To aid us in this darkest hour**_

_**Let the Book return to this place**_

**_Claim refuge in its right place"_**

With a thump, the Book of Shadows landed on its accustomed place. "Hurry, find the spell before he realizes!" Bianca urged Chris, and even as he started to flip through the Book, demons began to shimmer in, left, right and centre.

Bianca began to fight them off. Granted, she was good, excellent, even, but she was starting to get overpowered by the demons' sheer numbers.

"Bianca!" Chris yelled, momentarily forgetting what he was supposed to be doing.

But Bianca yelled right back at him, "Don't worry about me! I'll be fine, just do what we came here to do!"

Chris nodded, and stiffened his resolve, he glanced at the page he had arrived, and chanted the spell,

"_**Hear these words, hear this rhyme,**_

_**Heed the hope within my mind, **_

_**Send me back to where I'll find**_

**_What I wish in space and time."_**

In response to the witch's magickal plea, a portal opened up right on the triquetra on the wall, into which Chris jumped, and Darmuid felt his surroundings melt yet again.

This was turning out to be one hell of a premonition, all right!

_**Review, please!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you to anyone who has liked my story…**_

**_For the disclaimer, kindly refer to the 1st chapter…_**

_**And oh, something else I forgot to mention, by some weird co incidence, Chris and Darmuid share the same birthday.**_

_**Chapter 3**_

20 grueling minutes later when the premonition finally came to an end, Darmuid silently slid down to the floor, and sat there- his muscles simply refusing to work.

He was shaking like a leaf, he was _drenched_ in sweat, and his heart was beating so fast he felt like it'd burst. To summarize, he was in pretty bad shape.

When he trusted his legs to work again, he got up, crept to his room, and crawling into bed, awaited the dawn, for sleep, he knew, wouldn't come to him.

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_Two days later, on Chris' 23rd, and Darmuid's 17th Birthday…_

Darmuid woke up feeling incredibly worried. 30 seconds later, he remembered why. It was his birthday.

O.K, perhaps a little explanation will come in handy here. Ever since that premonition, he had been avoiding his family- more specifically Wyatt.

Not because he was afraid of him- it wasn't like that at all. In fact, he didn't even blame _that _Wyatt (which was what Darmuid had taken to calling the alternate reality Wyatt in his head.) for the things he did. Hating his brother was simply an alien concept to him.

No, he wasn't avoiding him because he hated him; it was because he didn't want to hurt him. For Darmuid knew his brother better than most people- and he knew how much something like this would hurt him.

And not telling him wasn't an option- he knew exactly how powerful a Seer Wyatt was- once again, better than most people. And it didn't really help matters that he was particularly attuned to the feelings of his brothers. One minute, and he'd know something was wrong- and being the responsible older brother that he was, doubtlessly, he would try to find out exactly _what _was wrong- and then, all hell would break loose.

Of course, there was always that slim chance that Wyatt wasn't _meant _to see it, and wouldn't. But that's what it was- a slim chance, and nothing more.

This was also the reason, he suspected, as to why Chris too had been avoiding Wyatt.

Two days, they'd been able to pull that off, but for how much longer? The three were inseparable, and sooner or later, they would have to come into contact.

And today was their birthday; the entire_ family_ would be there, including Wyatt- the one person who even _Chris _couldn't successfully lie to- and Darmuid? He was slightly better than Phoebe, which wasn't exactly saying much.

Hence, all this worry.

Resigning himself for the worse, he got out of bed, dressed and made his way to the kitchen, where Chris was apparently in the middle of an argument with his parents.

"Chris, it's your birthday." Piper was saying.

"My point exactly, mom! It's my birthday, so I get to do what I wanna do, and hunting demons is what I wanna do." Chris answered his mother.

Leo tried to reason with his son (the key word being 'tried'), "Chris, I'm not saying that you can't take care of yourself, but you're not invincible either."

"I _know_, dad. But even if I _do _get hurt, which is a very unlikely possibility anyway, Wyatt would sense it, and he'd heal me in a flash." Chris argued.

"Weapons can be cursed you know," Darmuid said, from his position in the doorway, his mind on the last thing that he'd seen in his vision, "so that the wounds they make _can't _be healed. Someone could curse an athame that way, and stab you- and we'd be helpless."

Ringing silence followed the 17 year old witch's words. Piper went pale, and began to clasp and unclasp her hands nervously.

Leo was affected more strongly than his wife and the glass of orange juice that he'd been holding fell from his hands and smashed.

As for Chris, a whole gamut of emotions passed across his features- fear, pain, love, concern.

The 23 year old was the first to break the silence. "So you know." He said to his baby brother, and when Darmuid nodded, he asked, "How?"

Darmuid shrugged noncommittally, "Two days ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with my senses on red alert. I pin pointed the source of the trouble to you.

When I went to your room, it turned out that you were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up, but when I touched you…"

"You got a premonition." Chris finished for his brother. "How much did you see?"

"From the time when you were 14," Darmuid said in a hollow voice, "to when you were around twenty. And then when you came back to the past; snippets of what you'd done here, till…" (The teenager's voice choked with emotion at this point) "Till your 23rd birthday."

Chris looked pained as he wrapped a comforting arm around his brother's shoulder.

"I can't watch that again, Chris. Please don't go- for my sake." Darmuid whispered.

"Sssh… I won't go, all right?" Chris said softly.

Piper decided to break the self induced stupor that she was in, and asked her youngest son, "Could this have something to do with why you've buried yourself in 'homework' for the past two days?"

When Darmuid nodded (somewhat sheepishly) Piper muttered a disapproving "Knew it was too good to be true!" and more loudly said, "Why?"

As a mother, she knew her kids, but even then she was worried- what if this caused a rift between the brothers?

Darmuid looked indignantly at his mother (he had a pretty good idea of what was going on in her mind- _how could she even think of something like this_.), and when he was satisfied that he'd made her feel sufficiently guilty, answered,

"_Because_; I don't wanna hurt Wy, mom. You _know_ how he is- I mean, compared to _him_, you guys are plain neglectful- and that's saying something.

If he ever sees what I saw, mom…" Darmuid's voice trailed off to silence, as his mind replayed the horrors that his parents didn't want to even _guess _about.

"It'd break him, mom, it'd break him utterly." Chris continued for his brother.

"So, what're our options?" Piper asked to the three before her.

"Well, lying to him won't _ever _work, 'cause,

A) He's our brother, even Chris can't lie to him convincingly enough, and;

B) He's a powerful Seer." Darmuid summarized.

"So, in a nutshell- we're screwed." Said Chris, in the trademark Chris manner.

"Isn't there any way- as much as I hate to say this- block ourselves off from his premonition powers?" Piper enquired.

Even after almost 3 decades of being Charmed, the collective magical knowledge of her husband and younger sons far surpassed her own.

Darmuid shook his head. "Nope," he said dejectedly, "the bond that we share as brothers is too strong for that.

I guess we just have to pretend to be O.K, and hope for the best."

Chris snorted derisively. He didn't like the idea, not one single bit- it banked _way _too much on chance.

However, even he knew that it was their best bet.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Wyatt's P.O.V.**_

_God, what have I done? I look at myself in the mirror and see a monster staring back at me. I look down at my hands, and see the blood of innocents staining them._

_Of course, I might draw consolation from the fact that I haven't technically done anything yet- but it still doesn't change the fact I might- it doesn't change the fact that I actually have a monster lying dormant inside of me, simply waiting to claw itself out._

_And my angelic brothers- one of them didn't even exist, and the other? The pain that his eyes held- it will haunt me till my dying day, and perhaps even beyond that._

_Oh God, Chris- I'm so, so sorry- for every single thing that I've done- for every single thing that I've put you through._

_Oh, the irony of it all- I'm supposed to be the big brother, the one who's supposed to do the protecting and yet, Chris was the one who ended up saving me- dying  for me._

_And the way he said sorry, sorry to me, of all the people he could've said it to. I should be saying that to him, even though it's ridiculously inadequate, even though a simple sorry doesn't really cut what I did, or may do._

_That's Chris all over though. No matter what happens, no matter how blameless he is- somehow, in his weird, twisted reasoning it always turns out to be his fault._

_Oh, Chris I'm not worthy of you, I'm not worthy of any of my family- least of all of you._

_As I sit here, contemplating, repenting- I can only think- perhaps Gideon was right? That I shouldn't exist at all?_

_Oh, God, help me… _

_**Chris' P.O.V.**_

_SHIT! Why can't I do anything right? It seems, whatever I do is bound to get screwed up by default._

_Damn, I should've anticipated this, and cast a spell to deal with it. Searching through the Book of Shadows, I've found the perfect spell for it- but of course, it hadn't been there when Darmuid had checked- apparently, the Book has a mind of its own. Big surprise there!_

_And now, Darmuid has seen what no one should have to see- least of all a 16 year old, and Wy? I've hurt him irreparably. _

_The one thing that I feared above all others, it just happened. And knowing Wy the way I do- I know he's sitting somewhere, alone, blaming himself._

_When will you learn, when you will you realize? My brothers are the most precious things that I have in my life- I could never hate you, Wy, not even if my life depended on it, not even if I wanted to._

_Even when you were at the height of your evil- you loved me. Perhaps you didn't show it openly, perhaps you had a funny way of showing it even- but you still loved me._

_The fact that I stayed alive for as long as I did is proof of that. In some weird, twisted way- you were only trying to protect me._

_Yes, admittedly, you'd hurt me, physically and emotionally, I'll admit to that much. But you never mortally wounded me, Wy- you may have threatened me with death, but you never carried out the threat._

_You were never willing to walk that extra mile to finish me off- even though I know, if you were; it'd've been only too easy._

_Why do you think I came back to the past to try and save you and not stop you?_

_It's because I knew with all my heart and soul you are good, Wy, that you are meant to be such. _

_And looking at what you are now- wasn't I right?_

_Wy, you're the most wonderful person that I have, or will ever meet, and I'm so sorry for making you feel that you weren't. So, so, sorry…_

**_Earlier that evening… _**

Warm water flowed over Darmuid's body as he stood beneath the shower, and the 16 year old witch willed the water to drown all his troubles to oblivion. No such luck.

Sighing, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and going to his adjoining room, began to dress himself.

He was about to put on his shirt when orbs filled his room right behind him. Darmuid jumped about a foot in the air, and instinctively exploded the tinkling, glowing mass of orbs, which separated as the witch's power hit it, and materialized to reveal a crumpled Chris lying on the floor.

The witch-elder looked up at his brother and gave him a pissed off look, and said, "My, _someone's_ jumpy today!"

A very mortified Darmuid rushed to Chris, and helped him up, muttering innumerable 'sorry-s' as he did so.

Looking at his baby brother, Chris decided to cut the teenager some slack. Smiling good naturedly, he said, "No biggie, bro. I startled you, which is something I should know better than doing by now. So, you nervous?"

Darmuid looked at Chris, his eyebrows arched. "Chris, you get nervous when you break your mom's favorite vase, and you have to tell her. You get nervous when you're caught having sex with your girlfriend by your mom.

However, I might inadvertently scar my brother irreparably for life. I'm not nervous, Chris- I'm _terrified_!"

The 23 year old sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's just that; he doesn't deserve this- he shouldn't have to know this _at all._"

"I know, Chris, I _know._ And if all goes well, he won't know." Darmuid told his brother quietly. Then as an afterthought he added, "What about you, though? How are _you_ holding up?"

Chris was surprised at the question. "Me? What'd be wrong with me?"

Darmuid rolled his eyes. _Typical Chris_, he thought. "Chris, you've gotten all the memories of that timeline. _I_ just got a premonition- and even then it was terrible. _You _have the actual memories.

You're worried about how Wyatt might take all this, and so am I. But I'm _also_ worried about how _you're _taking all this."

Darmuid watched exasperatedly as his brother's face became a blank mask, and he said curtly, "I'm fine, Darmuid." And then vanished in a swirl of blue orbs.

Darmuid looked up at the ceiling and addressed his brother with a tinge of irritation. "This is _really_ not a healthy way to deal with pain, you know!"

However, Darmuid had no more time to be mad (and worried) about Chris, as someone came stomping towards his room, and threw opened the door- it was Wyatt, who was currently in Los Angeles studying for his medical degree, and had come home for his brothers' birthday(s).

Darmuid suddenly found himself enveloped by Wyatt's muscular arms, as his older brother squashed him into a bear hug.

"I'm so glad to see you, lil' bro!" He exclaimed with genuine happiness.

Painfully remembering what Wyatt _could_ have been, Darmuid hugged him back and whispered, "So am I, Wy, so am I." _Please don't change_, he added silently.

Wyatt ruffled his baby brother's hair affectionately, and orbed a beautifully wrapped package into his hands.

"What's in it?" Darmuid asked. Wyatt grinned and said, "See for yourself."

His mind racing as to what the present might be, he ripped open the package to reveal a handsome book bound in red leather- _Advanced Spell Crafting_, the title read.

"Do you like it?" Wyatt asked tentatively. He knew that Darmuid was a genius when it came to spell crafting, and his knowledge was constantly increasing. So he didn't know if the book would turn out to be redundant or not.

"Like it!" Darmuid told his brother enthusiastically, "I _love_ it! I've wanted to buy this for like _ages_! Thank you _so_ much, Wy!"

Looking pleased at having made his brother so happy, he was gone in a swirling mass of bluish white orbs after a quick, "No problem, bro!"- Presumably to wish Chris.

Darmuid sighed with relief as Wyatt's form vanished. _So far so good_.

Wyatt's genuine love felt like a 1000 ton weight on his shoulders. The full realization of exactly _how_ much pain he could cause Wyatt set in; and a dread lodged in his chest- like a life essence eating away at his soul.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his door and went out to the hallway to greet the rest of his family- aunts, uncles, cousins, et all.

And it was great. Everything went flawlessly. They hadn't told Phoebe, Paige or any of their respective families- mostly because of Chris' vehement arguments in favor of it.

It was only when everyone else had gone home and the regular inhabitants of the Manor were about to turn in for the night when the lightening struck.

Wyatt reached over to hug Chris good night, who reluctantly (though he didn't show it) hugged him back. It seemed to go fine, and they were just about to separate when Wyatt's entire body tensed up, and he gasped in surprise.

Chris let go instantly (he had seen this reaction about a million times, and he recognized it all too well) hoping fervently that breaking contact would end the vision. It didn't.

Torrents of sweat broke out on Wyatt's forehead, and soon he was drenched in perspiration. His eyes squeezed shut, with a pallor that would put even a vampire to shame; he slid down to the floor, and curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, and was seemingly lost in oblivion.

Darmuid, Leo and Piper, who were in the kitchen, came out to the hallway. Seeing Wyatt in the way that he was, Darmuid knew at once that his worst fear had, in reality, come to pass.

As neither Darmuid nor Chris trusted themselves to touch their brother, for fear of giving him _more_ visions, with difficulty, held back.

Piper had no such inhibitions, and ran to her son, and gently touched his back in attempt to rouse him from the stupor.

Wyatt whimpered as if in pain, and said in a voice that broke Piper's heart, "Don't." And before anyone could do anything, orbed away. "I'm sorry." Chris said softly, addressing Wyatt.

**_Yes, I know, I have a thing about cliff hangers. Lol. Anyways, please review! And many thanks to anyone who has so far- the reviews I got for this story really made my day! Thank you!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hmm… been checking the stats, and thank you so much! 159 hits! Thank you, you good, kind people. Anyways, on with the story… and oh, Charmed not mine, O.K?_**

_**Chapter 5**_

"PAIGE! GET PHOEBE AND ORB DOWN HERE _NOW_!" Piper Halliwell hollered, looking at the ceiling, "Something's happened to Wyatt." She added, somewhat lowering the decibel level of her voice.

Five seconds later, a worried Paige orbed into the Manor, with a very confused and cranky Phoebe in tow. All her crankiness dissipated however, when she learned the reason for her being summoned to the Manor at 2 a.m. in the morning.

"Chris got the memories of the original timeline?" She asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

"_Yes_, Phoebe. What are you, _mentally challenged_?" Leo snapped in a most un- Leo like way.

All three Charmed Ones stared. In all the years that they'd known him, he had _never_ raised his voice at anyone (discounting the little incident with Gideon, of course), let alone family.

The once whitelighter/elder/ avatar mortal had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry," he said apologetically, "shouldn't've snapped. It's just that I'm so worried, and not _just_ about Wyatt, either. I know Chris, he's probably blaming himself for this- and although that's ridiculous, that's just Chris."

Meanwhile, Darmuid was twirling a crystal over a map of the world (when a witch who has the power to orb goes missing, there's really no guarantee he'll remain in the city he orbed out from.)

The crystal wasn't even pulling, let alone revealing Wyatt's location. "Fuck!" He swore in frustration.

Behind him, Chris, who had been orb- levitating, fell onto the floor with a thump. Feeling Chris' glare boring into his back, he turned around and gave him a "What?" look.

"I'm trying to sense Wyatt, something for which I need to concentrate, and my baby brother yelling obscenities gets in the way of concentrating."

"Sorry." Darmuid said dejectedly, and continued to scry, once again, in vain. Under normal circumstances, he'd have snapped back at Chris with an equally- if not more- sarcastic comment.

Not today though. Having a brother who was in pain, emotional and quite possibly physical too, tends to do that to people.

Sighing, Chris got up and wound an arm around Darmuid's shoulders, "Don't be. You're worried about him, we all are.

Actually, _I'm _the one who should be sorry. If it weren't for me, we wouldn't even _be_ in this position." He ended, bitterness entering his voice.

Darmuid's head jerked up at the Chris' last comment.

"Chris," he began exasperatedly, "for the last time- this is _not_ your fault. You didn't give the vision _to_ him, and neither did you _want_ him to get it. If anyone's to blame," Darmuid looked up at the ceiling venomously, "it's those freakin' powers-that-be who control premonitions!

It's not your fault at all. It never was, and it never will be."

"He's right, you know." A new voice joined the conversation.

Chris and Darmuid looked up to see who the new comer was- it was Leo. A Leo who had pain etched across his features.

"Son," he continued, "you're the most blameless person in this entire situation. In fact, you've done more for Wyatt than anyone else in this family- including your mother and me."

"That's not true, dad. You're just saying it to make me feel better." Chris said self deprecatingly.

"Yes it _is_, Chris, yes it is. Chris, you _died_ for him. You got stabbed by an athame," Leo told his second born son, his eyes clouding over with pain as he remembered,

"a _cursed_ athame, no less. And even with a gaping wound in your side, all that you could think about was saving Wyatt.

Chris, even as Wyatt's _father_, I insisted on staying at your side, but you practically pushed me off.

_You _reminded me to go after Gideon, even through all the pain that you were in."

"In fact," Darmuid jumped into the conversation at this point, "you got stabbed in the first place _saving_ Wyatt. Wyatt would've died if you hadn't jumped in between him and that athame."

Standing behind Leo, tears were falling freely down Piper's face. She hadn't been present when that version had died.

She had been told a general gist of the events, of course. Phoebe hadn't been present on the spot. Only Leo and Paige had been- both of whom had been very averse to describing the event in detail- it had been, and still was, very painful. So Piper hadn't pressed.

And in some ways, this was good, and in others, bad.

On one hand, she had been spared the pain of having to witness a son dieing such a painful death.

But on the other hand, she had never truly gotten to say how proud she was of her brave, strong, beautiful son. She had never gotten to thank him for everything that he'd done for them.

Until now. Swiftly banishing the distance between Chris and herself, she grabbed her waist and pulled her face close to his beating heart, a sound which comforted her beyond description.

"I never… got to… thank you." She choked out amidst her sobs. "I… never told you… how proud I am.

Oh God, I spent weeks hoping… wishing… you'd walk through the doors… and send us on another demon hunt."

Chris ran his fingers through his mother's hair. Each tear that fell from her eyes was a red hot poker going through his heart.

"Sssh…" he said, gently, "its O.K., mom. I'm O.K., not dead. I'm very definitely alive. Having my ribs crushed by my mother's bear hug, actually, but not dead."

Piper hiccoughed (had she not been crying her heart out, it would've been a laugh) and let go.

Paige and Phoebe, also teary eyed by now, squashed Chris into twin bear hugs as well- followed by Leo and Darmuid.

At the end of it all, Chris stood massaging his ribs. "Sheesh, you'd think you hadn't seen me in years or something."

Paige grinned mischievously and said, "Actually, we _haven't _seen a certain neurotic-sleepless-paranoid-secretive-moody-demon hunting version of you in 23 years."

Chris' eyebrows arched at that, and then he simpered, "I love you too, Aunt Paige."

His face becoming serious again, he went into full neurotic- Chris mode. "Right, focus, people. Wyatt's been blocking Darmuid's scrying, but I doubt he'll be able to block it with the Power of Three backing it up. Let's get to work people, we have a situation here!"

Her lips twitching, Phoebe leaned towards Piper and whispered into her ears, "Now _there's_ a certain whitelighter we knew and loved."

Piper smiled at the comment. She agreed whole heartedly.

**_p.s.- I'm very sorry to all the Wyatt fans, but don't despair, he'll be there in the next chapter. I just thought that Chris deserved this, don't you agree? Tell me all! Reviews, reviews, reviews people!_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thank you so, so, SO much for all the reviews that I've gotten so far for this story.**_

**_The kind words are very much appreciated… Anyways, I've had loads of fun writing out this chapter; hope you have as much fun reading it…_**

_**Chapter 6**_

"Everyone ready?" Chris called, addressing his mother, aunts and brother as they clustered together over the table.

Darmuid held an amethyst over a World map, and the other four witches each touched his shoulder or back. When everyone assented, the Charmed Ones and the second born Twice Blessed witch reached within themselves and gathering their power, channeled it through their hands into Darmuid.

The witch in question gasped as the enormous power poured into him like water, filling him up, entwining with his own magick.

By now, Darmuid was seriously regretting choosing to be the conduit- he had joined power with only Chris before.

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply as he felt the surplus power churning within him, making him feel as if he'd explode from within.

_Ignore it!_ He told himself sternly, _your brother needs you!_

Opening his eyes, he steeled himself and began twirling the crystal over the map, and to his relief, it began pulling.

It swept over the US, Africa-the pull began to grow steadily stronger, the tug swelled to a crescendo and the crystal landed with a resounding bang on Ireland.

_The cottage! _Darmuid thought as realization dawned on him. Leo and Piper had bought a small cottage tucked away in an Irish forest about 3 years ago. It was a place that the 5 went to, just to be together.

Sometimes, the 3 brothers went there to spend some quality time together. Right now, however, the only likely scenario that came to Darmuid's mind was Wyatt laying in a pool of his own blood- a not-so-comforting thought, to say the least.

"Orb! Orb! Orb!" Darmuid cried. Taking the cue, Paige grabbed her siblings and orbed out, while Chris grabbed his and started to do the same.

At Leo's indignant "Hey!" Chris' orbs turned back towards him too, dissolving the mortal's molecules into sapphire orbs.

2 seconds later, all 6 individuals materialized in front of the cottage. Fearing the worst, Chris telekinetically forced open the door.

He was met with the sight of Wyatt standing with his back to them, chanting a spell. Fear numbed him as he heard the words his brother was speaking-

"**_From whence they came,_**

_**I send them back,**_

_**Take my magick,**_

_**Take my p"**_

"NO!" All 6 of them cried out. Both Piper and Chris instinctively flicked their wrists, summoning their temporal statis, realizing even as they did so that it wouldn't work- as a good witch, Wyatt was immune to that power.

Miraculously, extra-ordinarily, however, Wyatt went sluggish for a moment. Perhaps his whitelighter blood made him partially susceptible to it, or maybe it was the combined effect of two _very_ powerful witches' magick.

Whatever the reason, a moment was all that was needed- for, without skipping a beat, Paige held out her hand and called, "Paper!", in response to which, the paper left Wyatt's hands in a swirl of blue orbs, and reappeared in the Charmed One's.

Recovering from the partial freeze, Wyatt turned to face his family, and thundered, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TRYING TO DO!"

Piper's own anger exploded at that moment, and her nostrils flaring, she said in a tone, which, albeit quite, carried as much force as it would have had she screamed, "What the hell do you think _you_ were trying to do? You know full well that power relinquishing spells, once cast, _can't_ be reversed. Why were you trying to strip yourself of your powers?"

At those words, Wyatt's façade of hostility cracked as his face crumpled into a sob. To Piper and Leo, it seemed as if someone had thrust a knife into their hearts- Wyatt hadn't cried in over a decade, and the fact that he was now, showed the kind of pain that he was in.

Quickly they crossed the threshold and stood beside their son. Gently, Piper guided Wyatt into a sitting position on the bed that stood near them. Leo rubbed circles on his son's back as an effort to comfort him.

For some reason, which seemed indiscernible to Leo, this seemed to cause Wyatt even more pain. Heart wrenching sobs tore out of him, as he buried his face in his mother's shoulder.

In the meanwhile, Piper stroked her son's hair soothingly while turning tortured and fearful eyes to her husband. _What can be causing our baby so much pain?_

"B..because…. I don't d-deserve t-them…" Wyatt hiccoughed out the words through his tears.

"Oh, honey, just because you were evil in one time line, doesn't mean you are in this one. Sweetie, you're _such_ a wonderful witch, you've _never_ abused your powers.

Baby, don't _ever_ think that you don't deserve your power, because you do, baby, because you do." Piper whispered comfortingly.

"N-no, m-mom… you don't understand… I-I h-hurt, I-hurt…" Wyatt whimpered, as if the words caused him mortal agony.

He shuddered, took a deep breath and then said, "I hurt Chris. I-I… tortured h-him." In the lowest whisper Piper had ever heard.

_I hurt Chris… I tortured him…_ The words hit Leo and Piper with the force of a speeding lorry.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god… _Both mortal and witch turned to their second born son, hoping, _praying_ for a denial. _Please say this isn't true, please!_

No such denial came- Chris stared at his feet, not daring to look his parents in the eye, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to lie to his family- not this time, not about this.

Only the sound of Wyatt's grief shattered the death like silence that had descended over the cottage, over the Charmed Ones, over the mortal, over two of the Twice Blessed.

"M-mom, I-I'm s-sorry," Wyatt whimpered, as he felt himself drowning in guilt, in grief, in the most painful emotions a human is capable of feeling.

"I-I o-ordered, I o-ordered…" Wyatt started to say, then fell silent.

A thousand and one dark ideas flew through Piper's mind at Wyatt's words. _No more, oh God, please no more!_ She prayed despairingly.

_What else do I have to learn tonight? What other horrors do I have to know about? _Leo thought.

Chris, the one from the original timeline, had said that his future had been awful. He'd said that Wyatt was evil. But he had _never_ given details, not once. When prodded relentlessly by his aunts (Phoebe more than anyone else) about it, 'future consequences' was the reason that he'd given.

Now the Charmed Ones and Leo understood the reason for Chris' reticence regarding the future. 'Future consequences' was no more than a subterfuge- in reality; he had been trying to shield them from the pain.

Piper remembered how horribly she'd treated him when he'd first said that he was trying to stop Wyatt from turning evil. Why? Because she couldn't deal with the fact that her son was evil, that he hurt innocents.

The knowledge had hurt, it had hurt had horribly. It had continued to hurt all the time Chris had been present, she just no longer took it out on Chris, only because she knew that he was her son.

Now, the knowledge that her son had hurt his own _brother_, his _family_, it hurt several times more than the knowledge of his evil. No wonder Chris hadn't breathed a word about this to anyone.

And even through her own pain, she was keenly aware of a grief of another kind- the grief that she felt for the first version of Chris. _Oh God, he must've been through so much, and we treated him like filth for most of the time he was here. And he never complained, not once…_

_**There you go, another installment… I know, this isn't exactly a best spot to end this chapter, but I'm drained, right now. I've let myself ramble on without restraint, and I've got a bad spell of writer's, not block, but cramp.**_

_**So, read on, and I'll just tend to my wrists and fingers… ouch… lol**_

_**P.S- I'll update ASAP, promise! So, please review!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

Silently, Piper asked her sisters to go, who understood at once. This was something that the 5 of them had to work out together; her sisters had no role here. Paige lightly took hold off Phoebe's hand and orbed out.

"M-om?" Wyatt asked quiveringly, as even he sensed the silence that had descended at his words.

The word carried such a note of timidity and fear, that it broke Piper's heart to hear it. It seemed as if Wyatt was no longer sure of his right to call Piper 'mom'. As this thought occurred to her, she grimly reminded herself that this was probably the case.

"Yes, sweetie?" Piper answered her oldest son, injecting as much maternal love as she could muster into her voice.

"I just… I just don't understand how I … I could… do that… do that to Chris… how…how I could order…" Wyatt fell silent once more.

Knowing that not knowing exactly _what_ Wyatt had ordered would drive her nuts, she gathered whatever that remained of her emotional strength, and asked, "Honey, what is it that you did?"

"I…I…" Every bit of hesitation on Wyatt's part steadily increased the oldest Charmed One's apprehension. _What could he have done, that was so terrible? What?_

For Wyatt's sake, however, she hid her own fears, and instead brought down her lips to kiss the top of Wyatt's head, as she soothingly rubbed his back.

"Sweetie, there is absolutely _nothing_ that _any_ of my sons could do that would make me hate them. And this is something that you haven't even technically _done_. Since when do you keep secrets from me, huh? You know you can tell me."

"The Zanqhàth…" Wyatt finally said, speaking as if every syllable caused him pain.

"I got… I got t-them to… to… rape Chris…"

Chris, who so far had been maintaining absolute silence cried out, "NO!" at Wyatt's words.

"Wy, you threatened to do that, but you never carried out the threat," he said gently, kneeling beside Wyatt, "No matter _how_ evil you got, you would _never_ hurt me _that_ badly, Wy, never."

The First Born Twice Blessed witch looked at his brother with pain and remorse filled eyes- eyes which also held a flicker of hope. _Could it possibly be true?_

"B-but the… the vi-vision…" Wyatt stammered, wanting badly- but not daring to- believe Chris.

"In the vision you saw yourself saying, 'The Zanqhàth will be pleased with their client tonight.'", Chris cut his brother off, "But did you actually _see_ it happening?"

_**Flashback**_

_Christopher Perry Halliwell was afraid; he was very, very, very afraid. More afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life._

_Shackles on his arms and legs bound him to the damp Underworld wall. Despite the perpetual chill that prevailed in the Underworld, his tattered shirt was drenched in sweat._

_His heart began beating painfully fast as footsteps sounded; footsteps that surely and deliberately came towards him._

_Flickering torches revealed the owner of the feet- a tall woman stood, looking at Chris and licking her lips._

_A tiny leather blouse and an even tinier leather skirt flaunted a perfectly formed feminine figure. Waist length raven hair framed an aristocratic face; with wide eyes, a perfectly shaped nose, and sculpted, voluptuous and scarlet lips._

_Even with the above attributes however, the woman was far from beautiful… for just beneath the superficial beauty (?) lay a deep cruelty and evil._

_Chris tensed up as she strode towards him. Ineffectually, he tried to free himself from the bonds that held him- but exhaustion had robbed him of both physical and magickal strength._

_Smiling smugly, she slowly ran her hand over his face. Chris' entire body broke out in goose bumps as the icy, deathly cold hands touched him, and his muscles spasmed as her fingers slowly made their way to his chest, ripping open his shirt like tissue._

_The fingers began to caress his body as they began to move steadily downwards, towards his pants, down…. down…. "**NO!**", with a burst of power that was both alien and familiar to him, he vanquished the demon._

_**End of flashback**_

Everyone in the room, including the person who was talking, were close to tears when Chris had finished- but all held them back, for fear of distressing the other- it was commonly known that Piper and her family were professional martyrs.

However, with the pain also came wonderful, blissful relief- a relief that Darmuid felt more than anyone else, Wyatt had borne this misconception for a few hours, Piper and Leo for a few seconds, before it'd been dispelled; but Darmuid? He'd had to bear this partial knowledge for almost a week.

He had gotten close to asking Chris about it several times; but each time, his courage had failed him- he had been too afraid of the answer.

"You mean… you mean… I d-didn't…" Wyatt said; a certain fraction of normality creeping back into his voice.

Chris simply smiled and hugged his brother- a gesture that was worth a 1000 words of comfort to Wyatt.

Darmuid protested good naturedly at this, saying, "Hey! What am _I _supposed to be? A next door neighbor?"

Laughing through their tears, both brothers grabbed their baby brother into a three armed group hug, into which Leo and Piper soon joined.

Finally, a good 5 minutes later, they disengaged. "Mom? Dad? Will it be all right if I orb you guys home, and the three of us spent some brotherly time together? Alone?" Wyatt asked his parents.

"Sure, honey." Both witch and mortal assented. Wyatt flicked his hand, and waved a goodbye as they were enveloped into blue orbs.

"So…" Wyatt said conversationally, flopping down on the bed as only the three of them remained. "So…" Chris replied, sitting down beside him. "So…" Darmuid echoed, sitting on Wyatt's other side. "So…" The Twice Blessed Witch repeated as he wound an arm through each of his brothers, pulling them towards himself.

In that moment of unquestionable, ineffable love; Darmuid finally understood the reason for all this- it wasn't meant to dissent the brothers, it was meant to bring them closer than ever.

_**THE END**_

_**Very special thanks to Alwyn Elderberry, the incredibly talented and gifted writer of THE BROTHERS HALLIWELL, for her valuable suggestions. Thanks to all my readers as well. Hope you like the ending!**_


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